


biting eggshells

by aishiteita



Series: brijae is a Good but i guess im stuck here forever [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Break Up, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Linear Narrative, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiteita/pseuds/aishiteita
Summary: Younghyun doesn't want California.(A breakdown of things.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> HI this will probs bethe only day6 i'll ever post lmfao  
> look blood is not a happy song about a hard to get lover or whatever andim forever here sO WHA TE V ER IDK IDK ANYMORE 
> 
> anywho plssss plspslpslpslsplps take the tags seriously :')) the jaehyungparkians do not end well here :')))))))
> 
> and yes theyre both horrible babies here im sorry but THERE IT IS THATS HOW I MADE THEM AND WHA T EV ER
> 
> :'))))))))))))))))))))))))) and none of th is is really canon lmao pls i would never. idk these are just tiny emo thoughts of mine none of themare real i call youngk bwee all the time this is the life
> 
> thank u mary for the Support. u never asked for this and i hope u never read it

"There's a party going on," Jae huffs, chest pressed against his thigh as he double-ties his shoelaces. "At Junhyeok's. We haven't seen him in a while, yeah?"

Younghyun's dressed up, but he still glances at the clock, watching the hands tick by, seconds making a full round to make a whole minute and the longer hand moves ever-so-slightly. It shocks him.

"Bri," Jae calls, "gotta go. Stop spacing out."

"Right," Younghyun follows his footsteps, heaving a grateful sigh seeing Jae walking to the passenger seat because he drank in the afternoon, and his pink cheeks aren't fooling anyone. Thing is, Younghyun's just glad Jae didn't try to get into the driver seat, because then it would beg for him to actually say _hey, don't drive because you drank earlier, remember?_ and Jae wouldn't give up the wheel because he's stubborn like that, and Younghyun would nervously bite at his nails throughout the whole drive because he's a pushover like that.

 

 

Naturally, the party would have them make out, because they've been at this for years and Jae had only decided to _try things out?_ a month ago. And it's fine. Younghyun doesn't mind. If it means having eyes on them, having eyes on how it's his lips claiming Jae's, it's fine.

"Earlier morning not enough?" Jae teases him, and Younghyun laughs into the kiss, eyes still closed.

"Shut up."           

Lips on lips, teeth clacking, hands somewhere, everywhere, and there's really bad vodka in their saliva ( _their_ saliva, gross) that gets Younghyun kneeling somewhere in the back of his head, taking this further, further away from Junhyeok's unnecessarily spacious house, further away from the people and the staring. It isn't the privacy or the sharing that's unsettling him.

"Gonna talk to Hyeok for a bit," Jae pants, a familiar lazy smile on his lips that glistens in the dim lights, asking to be chased back but Younghyun stays rooted where he is. "Thanks for that."

Instead, he grins. The one that Jae said he likes. "You're welcome."

 

 

The living room is empty; bottles smashed and glass shards strewn about carpet like landmines. Younghyun wants to take off his shoes, his socks, walk across the room barefoot and count the number of shards he gets past the skin of his sole at the end of it all. But Jae is horribly drunk, and he can't process anything other than _babe, it's you!_ and Younghyun has to offer him his shoulder.

Jae has drunken control of the aux cord the entire ride home.

 

***

 

"I'm just saying that layering around this part of the song is unnecessary," Younghyun says, as leveled as his head is letting him right now, teetering close to a limit he's always known he has, a limit he's always been half an inch away from every single time. "It's adding noise and look, you can't even hear the part well."

"Then take the goddamned song, why don't you!" Jae snaps. Younghyun lets the noise from both their instruments fill the air, deafening, piercing, a wail. Silence has the rhythm of Jae's shoulders heaving up, down, up, down. Silence has the end that is Wonpil quietly raising his bony hand to tell Jae that he's tried to balance out the third layer as best as he can, and no, it isn't working out, Younghyun's right.

The lines on Jae's forehead only relax when he watches Younghyun put down his bass and walk past him out of the studio.

 

 

Younghyun has a can of coffee in his hands, all calloused, fingers wounded up tight that no sound comes out when he cracks his knuckles. The steady hum of the vending machine keeps his breathing calm.

"Here." There's a similar can of coffee shoved right under his nose, and Younghyun looks up to Jae looking apologetic. "Look, I'm sorry. The last cover just—didn't cut it. And Hyeok's gone, and—"

"Yeah," Younghyun cuts him off, showing Jae his coffee. "I got it." Jae raises his brows, chuckles shyly before plopping down onto the other side of the bench.

"We can try removing the third layer, okay? I'll listen." Younghyun watches him, but not the eyes. Never the eyes. He watches the way Jae's lips round off each word so carefully, the tip of his tongue curling up to lick his teeth. "I'm sorry."

"No worries," Younghyun relents, eyes darting left and right throughout the halls before giving Jae a quick peck on his cheek.

 

 

Sungjin figures out his part with the power chords, and Jae gets to have his way with the third layer without noise cluttering the whole verse. The song's fine, just fine, and Younghyun toasts to this cover's hopeful success with something gnawing in his chest. He calls himself stupid for getting hung up on it so much, because they're not even a legitimate band, they're not having any records signed, and Jae has been saying something about moving back to California sometime soon.

"My place, now," he breathes into Jae's mouth when he can't take the constant thud against his ribs anymore.

 

***

 

He remembers, maybe a year ago, or close to that. He remembers Jae with thicker glasses, the less stylish ones, the black ones. The ones that would crack so easily under his fist but Jae's got to him first, and they were on the floor. They were on the floor, and he couldn't hear anything, nothing at all, just the roar of blood in his ears, roar so loud it erred, and became some screech. Slow focus, that was what it was. He couldn't tell when the punch came, when Jae's leg had locked his, but it was quiet and soft and he only registered the tang of copper flooding the surface of his tongue, pooling around his teeth and he had to spit some of it out.

It was warm, the corner of his mouth all the way down his jaw, and his fingers clutched onto Jae's shirt, a flannel, green plaid that made him see red as he pushed Jae off him. When he sat up, that's when the sound came rushing in, in bits and pieces of static that entered as the last syllables of some curse; he didn't know if it was from Jae or from him, but they were wheezing. They were wheezing so hard it hurt, and it wasn't from the pain of his cheek bruising, insides all cut up and still bleeding, the copper dribbling down his chin.

"Are you fucking happy now?" Jae muttered in English as they got themselves seated on the couch, Dowoon rushing to grab their first aid kit and Sungjin was getting his lecture ready, red in the face, red on Younghyung's hands and he was relieved because at least the blood was his own. He got only one blow in; Jae had a tiny bruise on his jawline.

So he sighed with a smile on his face. A tiny one, one that hurt so much Younghyun wondered why he smiled in the first place. "No," he wheezed, "I'm fucking elated."

Jae smiled back. Beatific.

 

***

 

Younghyun wakes to someone nudging his crotch, an arm draped over his chest, fingers behind his neck. Someone's breathing on him, and it smells bad. It smells so bad he has to roll away to the other end of the bed.

"Babe, that's unfriendly," Jae whines. Younghyun strains himself trying to understand the slurry English, but he knows Jae really can't speak Korean. He knows, and tries to hash back through four years of Toronto, get the words in his brain, process it. " _Babe_."

"I'm up, I'm up." Younghyun turns around, facing Jae with one arm up, lifting his blanket to invite Jae in. He immediately shuffles closer, arms wrapped around Younghyun's waist loosely, but they're warm and Younghyun shuts his eyes, nuzzling the top of Jae's head and smelling the stupid grease of his hair before the nudging resumes.

"You left me blueballed last night," Jae complains, and Younghyun feels a migraine coming on, but his blood rushes elsewhere and he hates being alive.

He clambers atop Jae, and melds their lips together, morning breath and all, lowering his hips until they're grinding on each other, until he chokes on the gasp that Jae lets out into his mouth, until he feels fingers trying to yank his shirt off.

             

 

Jae falls asleep right after, and Younghyun takes that opportunity to shower undisturbed.

 

***

 

"You ever thought of following me to California?"

The question caught Younghyun off-guard, and he had to deal with the freight train the world so kindly labelled as a migraine crushing his skull, flashes of Toronto and the twenty-something hours on the plane back to South Korea. He didn't know anything about California, but the news tell him every day that there was a drought there, and he wondered how Jae was still fine if he grew up in a place with no water. Stupid thoughts.

"Cali? And what would I do there?"

"Y'know. Live with me." He felt Jae's hand finding his, their fingers intertwined. Jae's knuckles were as sharp as ever. "We can still do band, the two of us. We can play small bar gigs, work actual jobs."

Younghyun stayed quiet. He thought he had Jae all figured out, an answer to any question he might have. Apparently, he hadn't. It was like Jae knew, and he didn't press on. He told Younghyun _it's okay, just think about it, it's fine_ , but it wasn't, and the peck to Younghyun's cheek didn't help him any.

 

***

 

"God, this fucking _part_ ," Jae cusses, barely audible above the sudden noise of his guitar stopping the whole band.

"Hey, if you can't do that part, I can't do it either," Sungjin reprimands him.

Younghyun lightly shifts his weight onto his left foot, bass at rest. "Guys, chill. I can play that part, if you're okay with it. I know Sungjin can play the bass for this one."

"Oh, you can play that part," Jae snaps, again, in complete English and Younghyun knows he's alone when Jae starts speaking fast like this, with his stupid native tongue that leaves no room for the other members to understand what he's spitting out. "If you can play that part, have it, okay? Just have it."

Younghyun can hear Dowoon whispering to Wonpil _what're they saying?_ and Wonpil smacking him, _shut up, they can hear you._ Frankly, it's funny, and Younghyun can't stifle his chuckle at the whole situation. He covers his face, because he can't stop smiling, he can't, and curls his fingers around his hairline, dry strands of platinum blonde in his fists. It's all so stupid, and he doesn't feel the telltale tears down his cheeks when he lowers his hands, rests his bass on its stand.

 

***

If anyone asks Younghyun now, _what was that fight all about?_ he'd laugh and mumble _you know what? I don't remember._

The thing is, they fight. They fight a lot and there's too much to count, to keep tabs of, there are too many _sorry_ s exchanged between them for the phrase to really matter anymore, because they're tired, and they know. They know the band knows, they know Junhyeok knows, they know it isn't exactly the most public thing in the world because _don't leave Jaehyung and Younghyun alone in the same room_ really doesn't have as playful a meaning as it should.

The thing is, there's too much reliance, reliance and dependency that Younghyun doesn't want to imagine himself having for the rest of his life. He knows Jae feels the same, but again, Jae is stubborn, and would actually have the nerve to carry on with whatever it is they have. Younghyun doesn't have the same strength. It's evident in how his cheek needed weeks to heal completely while the bruise on Jae's jaw vanished in days.

"If you were still together with Younghyun, hypothetically," Sungjin mumbled, rubbing his temples, "would you still go to Cali?"

"Yes," Jae answered, not looking at Younghyun.

"Really think about it, hyung. Would you really? Never thought of staying here?" Sungjin pushed his luck further. "Not even for him?"

Jae looked like he needed to sob really badly, Younghyun reminisced. He looked like he needed a long cry, or a scream, or another fistfight against someone, anyone. "Not even for Younghyun," he said instead, solemn, dry. No tears followed the words, and Younghyun thought _how sad_ , because he's always liked it when Jae called him _Younghyun_ more than _Brian_.

The thing is, it's been years, and they've only really tried this out for a little over seven months, but Younghyun already wants out. If he hears Jae cry out _Brian_ one more time, he's not sure what he'll do.

 

***

 

(His fingers itch for California, but he doesn't want it. He doesn't want the heat, the sun, the drought. He doesn't want the two of them in a garage that's more of a microwave than anything, the thought of working in the day and playing tiny gigs in the weekends.

He doesn't want any of it.)

 

***

 

The band is done for, and Jae has his ticket to California booked. Sungjin had tried to talk them through it, but six attempts of trying to stop walking on eggshells around each other, to stop Jae from clenching his fist or Younghyun from yelling at him to land said fist on his face, to stop Jae from tugging at Younghyun's sleeve begging _I'm sorry_ and Younghyun feeling all too guilty to really pull away—Sungjin gets tired too.

Dowoon gathers them, his lanky arm waving about amid the airport's early-morning crowd. Nothing's changed, except for the dark circles under Sungjin's eyes, for which Younghyun feels sorry for.

Jae exchanges farewells with everyone else, one-armed hugs for Wonpil and Dowoon, a clap on Sungjin's shoulders, followed by a short bow. He says _sorry_. It's not for Younghyun.

"Come visit once in a while?" he asks Younghyun. It's not hopeful by any means, but Younghyun won't deny the tiniest desire to hold Jae's hand for the last time in a long time. But Jae is asking him in Korean, of all languages, and Younghyun absolutely hates how the Jae right now is perfect, is amazing and he's always been, in his own way, but they know better. The hate cancels out whatever odd handholding fantasy his mind conjures, smites it down to the ground.

"That's gonna be a long while," he answers, in English. It's the least he can do, for now. For whatever they had. The friendship might come around some day, when, they don't know. "I saw the ticket. Pricy."

"Well, I hope you visit when I make it big. Then I can rub it in your face, and you can pay for my concert on top of the plane tickets." Jae says all this coyly, with a huge smile, and it doesn't sting, not anymore. Younghyun just holds out his arms, hands on Jae's shoulders. There's their distance for now. An arm's length to keep them far apart enough to not hurt themselves, not hurt anyone. It's safe, this way.

"I will get backstage tickets and kick your fucking ass," Younghyun tells him, "you'll pay for my tickets, or I'll leak all your bad pics online, I swear."

Jae pulls away from him with an easy laugh, boarding pass in his hand as he waves it. "We'll see."

Younghyun watches the doors slide open and close, the green plaid of Jae's flannel serving as the background of his face reflected in the glass.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [wonpil voice] idk baby


End file.
